The Last Confrontation
by TheCheshireCatt
Summary: Four words from the vampires, two words from a king, three words from a werewolf, and a sentence from him. A christmas spent in captivity, a mind lost in the dark, a place to hide from everyone disrupted just like that. Taylor, Cecelia, and Emma, got mixed up with the vampires. Emma didn't mean to lose her temper, but some things just happen…


_Hello! Now this chapter might not be the most interesting or the best, but don't be turned away by that please! I and my two friends Amelia (The Greedy Reader 1) and Annis (BlueSpex901) are writing this story together. Cecelia is Amelia's character, I am Emma, and Annis is Taylor._

 _This updates won't come as regularly as we'd like them to because we can only really write together on Sundays. We did have this story up before but we weren't exactly the best at writing then._

 _Anyway...ENJOY!_

* * *

 **Cecelia P.O.V**

 **1st oct**

"Next."

"The Thorntons have four cats and two dogs. They live in a place called Greendale."

"Taylor, they live in Greendale? Don't you think that sounds just a little…boring? Don't you want to live somewhere exciting? Somewhere where things happen? Somewhere-"

She interrupted me, "Isn't that why we're doing this? Look, Cecelia, I know you want too live somewhere 'exciting,' but really, life isn't a book! One day you're going to have to wake up and realise that people like Snow White don't exist, okay?"

I thought about what she had said. I wasn't stupid, I knew Snow White didn't exist; I knew that the books I read weren't about that kind of thing. I thought about what we were doing. We weren't doing this because I wanted to find somewhere 'exciting', I knew the real reason was because we didn't want to stay with our dads, but we also didn't want to get stuck in a place called Greendale with a pair of mooching adults who had four cats and two dogs. We wanted to settle down somewhere more exciting, where we wanted to make real friends. So, we were looking to find a relative who would keep an eye on us because we were still minors. I had just turned seventeen, and Taylor was two months away from that age herself.

"You know that's not why we're doing this, we have to follow our dad's around, and it's just no fun. I'm fed up with moving from place to place, and so are you. Ever since your mum died, our dad's got real close and so did we; that was a good thing. But they also started to move around a lot, and they don't settle." I took a breath. "And as for how _Snow White_ went, well, I'd prefer a near death experience! The books I read are about adventures, they involve dangerous magical creatures, not princesses! And forbidden love is way better than any mushy fairytale slop!"

Taylor laughed, and I was glad—we didn't like talking about our parents. We had strangely similar back stories; both our moms were dead from cancer. Both our dad's were journalists who traveled, documenting places like South Africa, Egypt and Jamaica, dragging us along with them. We were cousins—part of a very extensive family—but were more like sisters. We certainly bickered like sisters.

"Well, I think I've found the place!" exclaimed Taylor, breaking my train of thought.

"Oh, where?"

"Forks! A couple there have adopted a girl who's almost eighteen. She's our cousin-"

"Another cousin?"

"Yeah, I know! So anyway, I was going to say we would have someone our age to keep us company. Plus look at this blog thing about it!"

I looked at the screen.

 _Forks_ , _the_ _place of nightmares._ _It is_ _advised_ _that_ _dwellers_ _of_ _Forks_ _stay_ _inside_ _at_ _night_ , _as_ _recent_ _discoveries I have made have revealed a group of werewolves live in the midst of us village_ _dwellers_. _One_ _of_ _which_ _is_ _Jacob_ _Black_ _II,_ _who_ _I_ _believe_ _to_ _be_ _Jacob Black_ _I_ , _the_ _boy_ _who_ _went_ _missing fifty years previously at the same time the Cullen family and_ _a group of boys from . . ._

Taylor pulled the computer back to face her, but the little I had gleamed had been enough.

That was it, I was set on going to Forks.

"Oh, no!" groaned Taylor.

"What?" I asked apprehensively.

"You've got that look," she sighed.

 **Emma P.O.V**

 **10th oct**

Everything had gone wrong today. First I had messed up in school, been punched by some bitch called Katy Morrison, then my car had run out of fuel and I had to wait an hour for my grandma to collect me. Not that I couldn't have walked, but it was bucketing it down and I would probably have got pneumonia and died. To top it off, some distant cousins of mine had rung up and asked my Grampa, Jonathan Grey, if they could come live with us. Worst of all, he said yes, even though he didn't know them. He told me they promised to keep out of our way. Then he sent _me_ off to collect them. Now I was sitting on a cold, dirty, metal bench with the rain pouring down in torrents and the bruise on my cheek aching.

I gazed moodily at the floor wishing now more than ever that my parents were still alive. A wave of sadness washed over me, and I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to overcome. It wasn't often I thought about mum and dad, mainly because I didn't really remember them.

My parents—a Catherine and Aron Ash. Mum had originally been a Grey—had died in a car crash when I was four, so I'd lived with Gran and Grampa for as long as I could remember. I knew that Gran hoped I would settle down and make a few really good, life long friends here in Forks, but I had never fit in, never been approached by anyone. So I had no friends here…or there…or anywhere at all. That was why Grampa had invited the cousins to come live with us so readily; in the hopes that I would finally have some people my own age to hang out with. Fat chance.

The train came chugging into the station, letting off smelly fumes and a screech of brakes as it stopped. After a moment the doors slid open with a small bing and five people got off; an elderly couple, a young man in his early twenties, and two teenage girls around my age. I stared at them. They stared back. I had no doubt that these two girls were my cousins.

One was very slender. She had green eyes and her curly brown hair was bouncing everywhere. The other one was not as slender but wasn't fat. She had a roundish face that suited her. She wore glasses and had a pale complexion. Her hair was honey brown and wavy. She had a book in her hand and was wearing a silvery-black hat. They both looked good, better than I had expected anyway. I had expected blondes with gum and the stereotypical attitudes towards any hot guy who came into their view.

The one with the curly brown hair whispered something to the other, at which the other one went, "Taylor you idiot! It's rude to whisper about people and to stare at them. God, don't you have any manners?"

''Whatever!" replied the one called Taylor.

I got up very reluctantly and walked over to meet them, still not entirely sure if I would even like anything about them.

"Hey, you must be Emma. I'm Cecelia, Cecelia Rose Blackwood. And this idiot—sorry about the whispering, she hasn't got any social intelligence!—is Taylor Brook Orchister. I'm really sorry that we're intruding in your life. I'll mind my own business if it makes it easier for you. I can't vouch for Taylor though, she does whatever she wants without asking me, but I'll try to keep her nose out of your business!" she said all this very fast.

''Huh,'' snorted Taylor.

 _Oh, no,_ I thought, _just what I needed, someone who never stopped talking._

"Hi," I said hesitantly. "Yeah, I'm Emma."

The one called Cecelia smiled at me knowingly, whereas the one called Taylor just stared at me curiously, no doubt wondering who I got the bruise from. Well, as soon as she got to school tomorrow she would find out, so at least her curiosity would be satisfied.

"So," I said, looking down, "shall we go then?"

They both nodded, and we left the station. The ride home was quiet, it seemed to take forever, but in reality it only took fifteen minutes. It seemed to take forever because Cecelia bombarded me with questions about people who lived in Forks. She asked about somebody called Jacob Black, and I told her that I knew of him. He was the russet skinned, seventeen year old who sat in front of me in Biology. Wasn't much for socialising.

We were just nearing the house when Cecelia asked, "Do you know anybody called Cullen?"

"Yeah," I replied, surprised that she knew about them. "They moved here about a year ago. They all look like film stars or supermodels. There are nine of them. Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, Bella, Renesmee, Jasper and Alice are the kids. Their parents are Carlisle and Esme. They don't socialise—the kids, I mean." I stopped the car outside the house. "We're here," I announced, looking out at the tiny house with the sashed windows and the flowerpots with the dead flowers (to much rain,) in them on the windowsills. The door was white, the curtains inside the windows were a pale blue with little red poppies on them.

 **Taylor P.O.V**

As we entered the house a whiff of tuna bake hit me, so I instantly assumed that was for dinner.

"So, what's for dinner?" I asked.

"Tuna bake, it's Gran's special," Emma groaned.

"Mmm, I love tuna bake!" Cecilia lied through her teeth. I knew tuna bake made her feel sick. It did the same with me, I would probably throw up after dinner.

"When do you eat?" I wondered aloud.

"Around now _ish_ ," Emma replied, making her way into the kitchen.

The hallway was narrow, but it just got worse from there. Man the house was tiny! I saw the living room through a door to the right. There was a coffee table with a chessboard on it, a saggy couch and two saggy seats, and a television that looked to be from the Victorian ages!

"Hello, Emma!" said a rosy faced woman. She looked at least eighty, and wore a flower patterned apron and a kind, welcoming smile. "And you two must be Cecelia and Taylor!" She bustled over to us and gave us both a peck on the cheek and a hug. "I'm Emma's Gran, Bertha, but you be sure to call me Gran. After all, you're as much my nieces as Emma is."

"Hello, I'm Cecelia and this is Taylor," Cess introduced us, pointing to herself and then to me so Gran would know who was who.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you both. Come sit yourselves down and I'll dish out the tuna bake—hope that's okay with you?"

We sat at the table while Emma's grandmother served us our dinner. The food looked okay, but as I bit into it I almost spat it out. Luckily Gran appeared not to notice. I hated tuna bake and so did Cess. Cecilia kicked me under the table.

 **Emma P.O.V.**

I played with my food, trying to hide my embarrassment at Grans behaviour. She was prattling about the weather and Mrs next-doors noisy dogs. And every so often she would give one of her laughs, which, believe me, would embarrassed you if she was your gran.

"Emma's never been one for socialising, have you, sweetheart?" Gran told them, looking at me. "She's always been a loner, bit like those Cullen's, really. They don't fit in very well either, though they are nice and behaved, unlike some of the kids in this town." She smiled at them and I resisted the urge to bury myself in the back garden.

"Do you know the Cullen's well?" Cecelia asked interestedly, taking another forkful of tuna bake.

"Not well, no. I just run into Carlisle—that's the father—at the hospital when I go for my monthly checkup. He's very nice," Gran said, raising her eyebrows at them both in a way that said she'd quickly exchange Grampa for Carlisle any day.

I covered my face with my hands and kicked Gran under the table, willing her to take he God damn hint and shut up! She ignored me and went on to talk about something else. By this time I had lost my appetite and didn't want to even be associated with Gran.

 **Taylor P.O.V.**

I gagged in the toilet after dinner because I had eaten all of the vile stuff since I didn't want to upset Gran.

We climbed up some slippery steep wooden stairs. Our bedroom was the first door on the left. Even the bedroom was small. I mean, come on, we are three growing teenagers, I needed more space!

"This is where you will be sleeping . . . with me," explained Emma. "In the morning Grampa will get out some mattresses for you to sleep on and quilts. I think we'll have to go shopping for pillows, though…" she trained off a little sadly.

"We brought sleeping bags," Cecilia told Emma.

Emma's room was almost empty, with no wallpaper. A shelf of books adorned the very far wall next to the small bed with rumpled sheets. A desk with an old laptop on was in the corner next to the door. Emma had a pile of homework stacked a foot high on the floor.

I unloaded my bag then got my computer out. I sat on my sleeping bag. It was about eight-thirty—it took a while to eat our dinner, and we had to unpack.

When Emma went to the toilet to get ready for bed, Cecilia said to me, "You know, you should really work on liking tuna bake convincingly, because I have a feeling that we'll be having it a lot."

"It was your idea to come here," I accused her. She ignored me.

I put on my pyjamas and then I went on my laptop for a bit and played Minecraft, but the internet was so slow and my laptop so old, that I gave up after about two minutes. After I had turned it off, I stared at the ceiling and groaned.

"Ah!" I opened my suitcase and chose an outfit for tomorrow. A nice blue blouse, some ripped jeans and a white vest. "I wonder what that bloody school is like?" I mused.

"As long as it doesn't have tuna bake for lunch—" Cecilia said at the exact same moment Emma came back in.

"What are you talking about?" asked Emma. She was now dressed in old flannel pyjamas with some old cartoon characters I didn't recognise printed on them.

"That school we're going to tomorrow," I replied.

"Oh, did you know that the school was built in the Victorian times?"

"Interesting," I said scornfully.

"Tay!" exclaimed Cecelia.

"What?" I grumbled back.


End file.
